Child of Mine
by Airezi
Summary: The love of a mother and a child...well things are not always as you first perceive them. Sometimes the truth is much darker than you could even guess. And most times the outcomes are even more twisted than you could dream.
1. Hope

_A/N- Just a warning that this story does not follow the usual flow of fan thinking so please read with an open mind._

_Also all characters are copyrighted to disney thank you._

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**Daughter of Mine**

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Chapter 1- Hope**

"Stupid cub," the lioness hissed in absolute fury, eyes flashing in the moonlight. She snarled again and slapped at the small cub with an unsheathed paw, sending the youngster rolling through the dirt.

"I'm sorry mother!" the cub cried out in pain, desperately ignoring the pain and fighting to stand so it could avoid the next blow.

"Not sorry enough!" screeched the lioness, swiping out with a paw again. This time the blow was more forceful, flinging the cub into the air and into a towering termite mound. The two of them were alone in the outlands, supposedly out for hunting lessons. The cub should have known better when the lioness had used that excuse as they left the rest of the pride, but hope has a way of flowering in even the darkest situations.

"Now answer me again," the lioness growled. "What is your destiny?!"

"I am the chosen one. I will rule the Pride Lands. None shall challenge me," the cub mumbled, spitting out a little blood from a cut lip.

"Better," the lioness responded, her voice an unusual mixture of a growl and purr. "Don't you ever forget that, understand me?"

"Yes mother."

"Good, now it's time for sleep," the mother lioness ordered again. Still heated from the fight she stomped over to the edge of a termite tower, flopping down and raising a small puff of dust. The little cub didn't move, continuing to sit and stare dejectedly at its paws. "Come here!" the lioness hissed, suddenly realizing her child was absent. Abruptly the cub leaped up, sprinting over and almost diving in between the crossed front paws, seemingly eager to avoid another blow from them.

"That's my sweet little girl," the lioness purred, methodically licking the top of the cubs' head. After several rough washing she paused, looking down at her daughter expectantly.

"Good night mother, I love you," the cub quipped out with the monotone of a sentence repeated so often its meaning has been forgotten.

"I love you too Nala," Sarafina purred back, making the cub shiver at the emotionless flat tone of the words. However the light colored cub merely curled up tighter, focusing on losing herself to sleep—comforted by the knowledge that no nightmare could be worse than her reality.

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"What do you think Sarabi?" my mother asks, her voice so overly compliant and submissive that I have trouble believing that the queen doesn't see through the act.

"It's all right with me," the other lioness responds coolly, and I swear she is pointedly ignoring the tension between my mother and herself. But there's no doubt Simba is oblivious. He howls in delight and jumps over me in an invitation to celebrate. I roll over and join him, unwilling to walk the tightrope thin line of political balance between the two lionesses right now.

"As long as Zazu goes with you!" Sarabi calls over, breaking through Simba's happy outburst.

"Oh no, not Zazu!" the golden prince complains, giving me a look of utter despair.

It had been a typical day in the Pride Lands until he had come bounding up, blabbering about something cool he had to show me. My mother had kept me at her side like she always does, giving the appearance of being a very attentive parent while in reality she is merely watching to make sure I don't foil her plans. In order to fulfill the destiny she has thrust upon me I have to be the perfect candidate for future queen—and even as a cub I cannot make the usual mistakes.

I must be able to lead the hunting party on its nightly expeditions, and protect and defend my pride sisters from intruders. I must be able to reason and be diplomatic, both amongst my own pride and any visitors. I must be able to prioritize which problems of the kingdom are most in need of attention, and which can be dealt with later or forgotten entirely. I must be kind and generous without being manipulated by those around me.

It's a lot for one little cub to live up to. I try my hardest, honestly. For the longest time I thought that if I just worked harder I could just live up to my mothers expectations and then…then she would no longer be so cruel to me. That night in the outlands, where she brought me so we would be far from any prying eyes I learned different.

I could never be everything she wanted me to.

Even my appearance had to reek of perfection. My mother is beautiful, I can admit to that, and luckily some of her has been passed down to me. It fits quite perfectly with a ruse of her being a caring mother to bathe me often to look my best. Out of habit I make sure all my fur is lying flat and straight while we wait for Zazu to come and escort the prince and me to wherever it is we're going. I can feel my mothers piercing eyes on me as I do so, acknowledging that I have remembered my training and will not have to be punished.

Again.

It's amazing how creative the mind could be. It would never have occurred to me that the simple act of forcing someone to sleep on rough stone with a pelt packed full of sand could be so painful. But it was extremely effective I admit. None of the other lionesses even suspected, I was the only one who noticed the raw rubbed skin all over my sides, forcing a smile instead of a wince every time I brushed against something. That memory is still fresh enough that I even double check everything before Zazu finally comes and Simba drags me after him on todays adventure.

"Behave you two!" Sarafina calls after us, her tone making it obvious that she knows we won't listen. The impish smile Simba gives her and the queen over his shoulder merely encourages her doubts.

"Pheh, like we've ever gotten into trouble!" the prince rolls his eyes are me, their amber depths sparking with mischief. I grimace slightly, knowing that she meant it more as a warning to me than anything. Sometimes I wish Simba were not such a blabbermouth, he is a good friend and I want someone to know about that painful night in the outlands. But if word ever got back to my mother…well my imagination about what might be probably doesn't even compare to the ideas she would formulate.

"So where are we really going?" I ask the prince, vaguely curious but more to keep him from asking what I'm thinking. As he rambles on I'm not truly listening, the image of my mother and the queen, napping companionably in the shade is stuck in my mind. See, I know a little more about the politics of the pride than Simba does—partially because I play such a huge role in them.

The happy rule under King Mufasa and Queen Sarabi is really not so happy as it appears. Yes the land is thriving but internally…the pride is divided. The king and queen were betrothed at an early age, as is customary in the Pride Lands. Though to all appearances they are the perfect, loving couple doting upon their son it is all a sham. It is MY mother, not Sarabi, that the king loves so well. That is why he took both her and I from my birth pride so long ago. He dotes on her, his mistress, in the night away from the curious eyes of the pride. I know this because there are many sleep times were I've woken up alone, free from the trapping embrace of those familiar paws—and the king has also been absent far too many times for coincidence.

They hide it well though. Even though my mother keeps me at her side nearly constantly I can never detect anything more than the usual interactions between her and the king. And if I cannot see anything I doubt the other lioness do either…

Except for the queen.

Sarabi is not stupid, and I'm sure she knows what is going on as well as I do. So it bothers me that she doesn't put an end to it. Perhaps that is why she keeps my mother so close, feeding the façade that they are the closest of friends and desire nothing more than each others company day in and day out. That would have the effect of keeping rumors to a minimum. After all, who wants to call their queen stupid about not seeing something right under her nose? And who would suspect treachery between two such close companions? At least my upbringing has the good fortune to make sure I am not blind as some.

"Ahh look at you two little seeds of romance blossoming in the savannah," Zazu quips happily, fluttering down in front of Simba and I. "Your parents will be thrilled!" The blue hornbill sounds entirely too thrilled himself. "What with you being betrothed and all."

"Be what?" Simba queries, confusions rumpling up his whiskers.

"Betrothed, intended, affianced," our babysitter supplies, happily showing off his vocabulary. Unfortunately my mental dictionary seems to be lacking in this area.

"Meaning?"

"One day you two are going to be married!"

"Yeck!" Simba gags, sticking out his tongue in disgust. I make a face to, but my repulsion stems from different reasons than his. I've known my entire life that Simba and I were betrothed, that's how Mufasa was able to explain bringing back my mother to the pride. It would have looked suspicious to welcome a beautiful, unknown lioness for no reason, but to bring back a mate for his young son….well no one would question if that future mate was still young enough to need her mother. It infuriates me that I was manipulated so young, unable to realize yet what was going on or even try to control it.

However it is not all so bad. Long ago I realized that Simba was my ticket out of this situation. When we two are finally king and queen I can send my mother back to the despicable place she deserves to be. Then I will be free to laugh and be happy without fear of repercussion.

And as for the fact that I have to become Simbas' mate for it all….well for a male I guess he's not so bad. As he and Zazu trade rebukes and taunts I don't see a young prince before me. Instead I see a golden lion, full grown and king. I see myself as queen at his side. I see freedom from my mothers clutches. I see hope.

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A/N- Ok just to clear this up that I honestly do like Sarafina and think she's a good mother. This was just an interesting concept I'd been toying with lately, thinking about how everyone jumps to conclusions about her when she only has one line the entire movie. That's all I got. Hope you enjoyed and please leave a review!_


	2. Faith

**Chapter 2- Faith**

"I can't believe we ditched the domo!" I squeal happily, leaping lightly into the air and relishing the freedom of the moment.

"I am a genius!" Simba exclaims proudly, scratching his chest with a smug expression.

"Hey genius it was my idea!" I shoot back, unwilling to let him take most of the credit.

"Yeah, but I pulled it off!" the golden prince challenged, his amber eyes sparking excitedly.

"With me!" I spit back good-naturedly, squaring off and preparing for the pounce that I know is going to come.

"Oh yeah!" he grins impishly, growling playfully as he leaps. Expertly, with the ease of practice I catch his outstretched front legs and flip him over.

"Pinned ya!" I proclaim, smirking downward as he grunts in surprise.

"Hey, lemme up," Simba complains, shoving me off him. His paw accidentally hits one of my bruises from the other night, and as I turn away I suddenly feel a cold chill travel down my spine.

I'd forgotten about my mother's warning…

She's not going to like that Simba and I ditched Zazu…

She'll tell me that's not how a future queen should act…

She'll be really, really angry…

Suddenly a weight flops down on my back with a growl, knocking me over into a rolling cloud of dust. For a second I'm angry that Simba interrupted my thoughts, but then I let out a bark of laughter as the simple yet effective solution springs to mind.

I can blame Simba!

Yes, that's it! Any trouble that he gets into his mom and dad will brush off as normal cub antics. So long as they do that my mother has no choice but to follow their lead—or risk arousing the suspicion of the other lionesses that her deep affection for her daughter is nothing more than superficial!

All of this flies through my mind as Simba and I tussle with one another, the points connecting so quickly that I almost can't believe that it could work. Without even trying I've found a way to circumnavigate my mother, and I don't even have to wait to grow up and marry Simba!

"Pinned ya again!" I crow, wrestling the prince down into the gray dirt. Finally I feel some semblance of control over my life—something I haven't felt since I was an infant…

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I still had my newborn spots when we left the lands of the Sun Desert pride, but I have heard the story so many times from my mother that it might as well be my own memory.

Unlike the Pride Lands the Sun Desert Pride ruler commands a harem of females rather than just one mate. They are ranked solely based on the Kings' personal preference, often times changing from day to day on a whim. My mother, however, was the exception to this constant shuffling. From the first day she was chosen to be Mfalme's mate my mother was ranked first and highest—that is, until I was born.

Strict laws are upheld that only a male heir may succeed to the throne, and so both my mother and the king cast me aside as useless the moment I was born. Instead my father became suddenly interested in the son of his second wife. Needless to say my mother turned green with envy at the simple chance of gender that now threatened her status. Mere envy turned into furious hatred when Mfalme announced the cub as his uncontested heir, meaning that he would not sire any more for fear of their usurping his chosen son as he himself had once done to his brothers. The king had efficiently condemned his harem to a barren life—giving my mother no way to reassert herself as the top lioness.

Then Mufasa came.

Of course we knew about the other prides that lived near by, but rarely did we mingle with them. However the king of the Pride Lands had a small problem. His mate had given birth to a single son, and Mufasa felt that his golden heir deserved nothing short of a princess for his future mate. Of course he could not find a suitable subject in his own pride, and so had come to seek a possible match from ours. However, when the questing king set eyes upon my mother he nearly forgot his original purpose he was so entranced by her.

Of course Mfalme immediately picked up on this fact and set the gears of his mind in motion. You see Mfalme was a younger son of his late father; his ability to overcome two elder brothers in their quest for the throne should be a good indication of how shrewd the Sun Desert king was. He had been wondering for weeks how to remove my mother from the harem so that she would not interfere with the ascension of his son to prince-hood. Now the perfect opportunity to do so without losing face had been thrust right into his paws.

However, he wasn't quite so foolish as to give Mufasa the power of negotiation by letting him know that. Instead he played dumb to the visiting king, pretending not to see his deep interest in my mother. In private Mfalme informed my mother what he had planned. She seethed and called him many harsh names, though his cool logic finally broke into her rational mind. If she left with Mufasa her daughter was gifted the chance to be queen of the pride lands, elevating my mothers own status. More importantly, in her eyes at least, my mother would have the opportunity to bear more sons for the smitten Mufasa; sons with the chance to rise even higher—to the rank of king. Her other option was to remain here, barren and with a worthless daughter.

She took the offer.

Using all her conniving ways and determination my mother swept Mufasa off his feet until the king of the Pride Lands went begging to Mfalme. Apparently he was sweating when he came to speak with the Sun Desert king, not from nervousness though. No, it was because of the mere minutes he had spent with my mother beforehand; entranced by her voice, her scent and her seductive eyes. Unable to think clearly he devoutly proclaimed that he loved her and would do anything for her.

That was when my mother gave her most astounding performance. She broke down in tears, sobbing into his mane and unloading all her troubles. How much she loved her only daughter, how she wished she could offer her child a brighter destiny then the one awaiting her here, and how she wanted someone to love that didn't split his heart with five other lionesses.

Mufasa was swayed.

The poor ruler of the Pride Lands never knew that he had been tricked. He was still entirely wrapped up in the memory of my mother pouring her heart out to him that he missed the gleeful smirk on Mfalmes' face when he announced that he had chosen me to become his sons betrothed. Of course he would offer my mother a place in his pride as well since I was far too young to be separated from her. She (of course) spied on the whole thing, and a very satisfied smile appears on her face when she tells of it. For several tense moments the two of them stood there; Mufasa panting in nervousness and trying to hide his shaking knees while Mfalme laughed behind his blue eyes. Finally the king of the Sun Desert Pride relented, unable to hide a grin as Mufasa audibly sighed in relief.

That very night they left, my mother holding me in her mouth as they walked side by side under the moonlight. It was the only time she ever carried me.

Just to continue a sham for a king she didn't even love.

Just for the mere possibility of sons that she could be proud of.

Just because she didn't want to laugh at how enthralled he was of her.

That's why she carried me.

Otherwise I'm sure I would have been made to walk.

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A/N- Yeah, this is shaping up to be a much sadder story than I ever intended. And fair warning that the final chapter will probably be the sadest yet. Any guess to the title? Hint- Look at the titles for chapter one and two to figure out the trend ;) Review please!_


	3. Charity

_A/N- Apology for the long wait guys. This chapter was also getting a bit long so I'm splicing it into two, and possibly adding on another unplanned chapter since everyone was so disappointed that it was supposed to end after three. I'll have to see what the response is, enjoy!_

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**Chapter 3- Charity**

"Zazu," Mufasas' voice has taken on an air of command that I have rarely heard him use, and I wish the savannah grass would grow taller to hide Simba and me from the furious king.

"Yes sire?" Zazu asks cautiously as he lands, cringing in expectation of an outburst.

"Take Nala home," Mufasa commands, and I flinch involuntarily at the utterance of my name. "I've got to teach my son a lesson," the king growls quietly, glaring over his shoulder at the prince. Ears flat against his head Simba shrinks down beside me, the dry grass rustling as he tries to hide and I can't help but feel sympathy towards him. I know that earlier I planned on blaming him for whatever exploits we got into today—but I never expected them to be this bad!

"Come Nala, Simba," the major domo says as he flaps over, breathing a sigh and turning toward the prince and grasping him by the shoulders, "Good luck!" Silently I follow the blue hornbill as he flaps slowly towards Pride Rock, casting one final glance at Simba and feeling a stab of pity at the sight of his scared amber eyes.

"Simba!" Mufasa's commanding voice fills the darkness as I pad further away, looking down at my paws. Above me Zazu misses a beat, fluttering awkwardly for a moment before regaining his tempo. We travel in silence under the darkening sky, until the shadow of Pride Rock is swallowed up by the dark of night just as we reach it.

"Zazu," I say suddenly, hesitating at the bottom of the ramp that leads up to the sleeping cavern. "Please, can you not tell my mother? Not yet." I don't mean to, but my voice cracks as I speak, the fear I've kept bottled up spilling out like a water puddle stomped by an elephant.

"She'll ask me first thing you know, I was in charge of watching you and Prince Simba this afternoon," the hornbill points out, settling down on a nearby branch and eyeing me skeptically. "And after what happened today, I_** personally **_believe you deserve some type of punishment."

She'll hit me, that's the punishment I'll get.

I know that's the first thing that'll come to her mind when she hears what's happened; when she learns that I nearly killed the crown prince, her ticket to power in this kingdom. She won't even care who's watching, the queen, the loyal members of the hunting party, the half growns in their curiosity—she won't care who sees. Worst she even might get away with it if I don't bleed. If I don't look too hurt she can just say that I merely lost my balance, after all she only spanked me for scaring her so badly.

For a second anger surges through me instead of fear—until I remember Simbas' face, and the voice of his father as Zazu and I walked away.

I never meant it to go this far.

I never thought Simba and I would nearly get killed.

I never thought Mufasa would have to rescue us.

Mufasa….

The king! He was my safety net, my ticket to freedom! Mufasa was a great ruler…and an even better father. Even if he loved my mother more than Queen Sarabi, his son was still more important than either lioness. I felt certain that he would forgive the prince, relief at his safety overriding punishment. And if Simba escaped reprimand I might be able to as well.

"Just until Mufasa comes back," I plead, biting back my pride in desperation to preserve my hide. Up on his branch Zazu ruffles his feathers and sighs.

"As you wish," he finally agrees, grimacing just a touch as his gaze wanders up the cavern. "I wasn't looking forward to telling her anyways," the hornbill admits, and I jerk my head up in surprise. "As I recall from our first meeting your mother has a very nasty temper at times." His eyes roll downward, eyebrows raising slightly as he meets my gaze.

"Whaa…" I sputter. _He can't know…but even if he just suspects…_ Hastily I flash my best smile at the major domo, trying to cover my earlier shock. "Well she just wants what's best, I do get into a lot of mischief!" I rattle off, keeping the smile plastered on my face as I begin to race towards the den. "Thanks again for not telling Zazu!" I shout over my shoulder, hoping that will send him off for the night. Luckily he flaps off without saying anything else, and I slow down to a trot as I approach the entrance; taking a final breath of the night air before stepping into the darkness of the cave.

_Luckily my mother was gone that night, Queen Sarabi informed me that she had something to take care of and would be gone for a few days. I felt guilt even as relief flowed through me, and a pang of disloyalty at the happiness that wells up when Sarabi informed me that she would be looking after me. Maybe it was just the excitement from the days adventures, but I slept more soundly and deeply then I can ever recall; curled up against Sarabi with Simba on the other side when he and his father finally returned. It was a night spent warm and with good dreams._

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The next day I was sure to be extra good, even though Mufasa informed me that he wouldn't be punishing either Simba or me as he thought being chased by hyenas was enough to frighten us into behaving. Thanking him, I wondered once more how such a kind soul as the king could ever be disloyal to his mate—especially for someone as cold-hearted as my mother. I blamed it on some adult reason beyond my understanding, refusing to let it dampen the prospect of a day without my mother breathing down my neck.

Unfortunately Simba disappeared off with his uncle partway through the day, so with my main playmate absent things were quiet. But I soon discovered that lazing around all day with just Queen Sarabi around, was a far cry from the afternoons I usually spent with her and my mother. This day was much more…peaceful, the usual subtle undertones of tension absent.

"I heard that Zazu told you and Simba yesterday that the two of you are betrothed," the queen spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had reigned as we lay on the warm sandstone, soaking up the sun.

"I kinda already knew," I reply cautiously, peeping open an eye to gauge her reaction. I hate to appear ignorant, there's enough times where I really don't know what's going on to tack on more.

"I figured you did, you keep on top of the going ons in the pride quite well." she smiled without opening her eyes. "Do you think you will make a good queen?"

"Ummm…well…" I can only stammer, shifting my head on my paws, struggling to think about how my mother would want this answered. "I guess so…"

"I apologize Nala, I didn't mean to put you on the spot." My jaw drops in surprise to hear the queen apologizing—to me! "My son is very attached to you, and I don't think that will change as the two of you grow up. So, as queen to future queen, I wanted to let you know that you should feel free to ask me anything." Her smile is gentle and genuine, but I still can't stop myself from staring in shock.

"I know your mother was basically a queen back in your old pride, but things are a little different here," Sarabi continues, seeming to consider her words very carefully before annunciating. "I'd like to teach you some things myself, maybe we could spend some time together exploring the pride lands?"

Somehow I feel as though she's offering me a way out, a chance to escape my mothers' clutches for the day. Lightly I slap at my ear with a front paw to bring back reality. Unfortunately I hit a bruise from the other night and wince instead of making the motion look like an attempt to scratch.

"And I believe it will be a little less rough on you as well," the queen comments wryly, her gaze sad with eyes that seem to rage with some inner turmoil.

"Queen Sarabi!" one of the other lioness calls, racing up with a panicky expression on her face.

"Think about what I said Nala, I worry about you sometimes," Sarabi purrs, rising to her feet and going to meet the runner. First Zazu, and now the queen…maybe my other isn't as cunning as I thought… As I struggle to regain my composure the huntress whispers something into the queens' ear—and our world shatters.

"NO!!" screams Sarabi, pulling back fearfully from the other lioness. "They cannot be dead, they cannot!"

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"But to lose poor Simba as well, who had barely begun to live!" Scars' lament over the loss of his brother and nephew doesn't seem to penetrate my ears; I can only focus on trying to grasp the fact that my closest friend is dead. Tears are pouring down my face, and down the faces of those near me so I'm not ashamed to be crying. To lose both the prince and king in one day…that is a heavy blow to the pride.

Feeling so alone I rub my head against one of the strong legs that rest on either side of me, Sarabi bows her head to give me a comforting lick on the head; her eyes aren't dry, though she is one of the few without tear tracks all the way down her muzzle and I admire that strength, pulling a little bit into me.

My own mother is still absent, and as much as I dislike how she makes me feel at times I still wish she was here to share the pain at the loss of the prince.

The loss of the prince…

With Simba gone, all of her plans about me rising to take the rank of queen are moot.

"But out of the ashes we shall rise to a new era!" Scar howls out victoriously, ascending a little up the ramp to leer down at the rest of the pride. He was never taken in with my mother like Mufasa was, and she never tried to manipulate him like she did Mufasa—there was no need to. Now, with Scar as king what will she do now?

"Where lion and hyena come together!" the new king concludes as hordes of laughing hyenas emerge from the shadows. "In a great and glorious future!"

_In an unknown and dangerous future,_ I translate in my own head. The hyenas laughter drowns out Scars' voice and I bury my face against Sarabis' leg, thinking that maybe things hadn't been so bad before.


	4. Sacrifice

_A/N- Final chapter! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, I love the support! And for those who haven't yet....come on! You've read this far, obviously there is something worthwhile. Let me know what you liked AND didn't like. Enjoy please!_

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Chapter 4: Sacrifice-**

"I have to go out with the hunting party, will you be ok on your own?" Sarabi asked. Actual concern colored her tone and filled me with a rush of pleasure.

"Of course, I'll just play around here," I'm quick to assure her. "There's plenty of places I haven't explored yet."

"All right then, I'll make sure to drag you back something extra special," the queen (excuse me, former queen) promised, nuzzling me on the head. The sound of bone skittering across the stone nearby freezes her halfway through the motion, and together we glance over to see a scraggly hyena with slobbering jaws chase after the cracked femur. "I don't think they'll bother you but stay alert ok?" she whispers in my ear, giving it a final lick before glaring at the scavengers scattered around.

"Yes mam," I promise. It's been nearly a week since the prince and king were killed in the stampede. My mother is still gone, and the queen had continued to look after me in the tumultuous first days with Scar as king. I think it was a comfort for both of us to have the other there. Several nights we had each awoken at the same time, cuddling close together and sharing silent tears. I know that she has the consolations of the entire pride in her mourning state, but it is a pleasure to feel as though I am a big part of that healing.

Sarabi glanced over her shoulder once more before she disappeared onto the savannah with the other lionesses. I reared up on my hind legs, smiling and waving a paw at her, making the light brown queen smile back before padding after the hunting party.

It was so strange.

To me, who had never really had a loving mother, it was strange to have someone so concerned for me, and not just for how it would affect them. My mother had always made sure that I was well fed and kept clean. She even took the time to teach me hunting moves and fighting tactics in case I ever needed to defend myself. The way she taught these lessons though, always made me feel like some sort of trained pet, learning these things for her pleasure and enjoyment.

My mother always made it a point to remind me why I needed to learn these skills, making me push myself with thinly veiled threats and disapproval. She was constantly saying that I would never be queen if I couldn't perfect my hunting stalk and the final pounce. After all, what kind of respect would a queen who couldn't take down prey earn from the rest of the pride?

"The same kind you get from me mother," I mutter quietly, padding around the base of Pride Rock. Relief and fear both flood me as the words leave my lips. Relief that I've finally voiced my disgust with my mother, and fear that somehow she will know and punish me for it. Nervously I cast my eyes around, but even the hyenas are absent from this quarter of Pride Rock. No one is around to overhear me other than the insects buzzing around the golden top of the dry grass.

"I don't care!" I growl out defiantly. Spirit sparking within me, I clambered on top of a small boulder and faced the open grassland. My short time out from under my mothers' paw had inspired a confidence in me that I never knew existed. "I'm not afraid!" I yell out of the yellowed grass, loosing a small roar that left me cringing slightly at its frailty. Hopefully I would grow into a better quality of the sound.

"My how you've grown!" a familiar voice makes me gasp and choke.

"Mother!" I sputter, instinctively sliding down from my perch rather than wait for a paw swipe to send me crashing down to the ground. That insincere smile I know so well is on her face as my mother pushes into full view from the tall grasses.

"We may need to work on that little roar of yours," she rumbles gently, and I can sense the held back laughter. "Though such spirit is admirable."

"Yes mother, thank you," I answer dutifully, sitting before her and tucking my paws in neatly like I've been taught.

"All in good time though," she tells me briskly, turning with a twitch of her tail back to the edge of the savannah. "Things are about to change around here and we'll have to see what position you can best serve in."

For a minute I'm confused, wondering how she has so quickly adapted to the idea that Scar is king and that with Simba dead I can never be queen. Then clarity hits me so hard I have to blink and clear my vision.

She doesn't know!

The sudden realization shocks me. In her absence my mother wouldn't have heard about the deaths of Simba and Mufasa.

"Mother there's something I need to…" I begin but she quickly interrupts me with a tap of her tail on my nose.

"Not now Nala, there's someone I want you to meet," she scolds, voice slightly muffled by the long grass waving around her head. "This is your little brother," she purrs, lifting a light colored bundle out of the golden grain.

I can only stare in awe as she sets him down in front of me, lost in his perfect, miniature form. His pelt is the pale yellow of the dawn sun, not so bright as Simbas' but still eye catching. The baby spots speckling his coat are a pure copper, fading gently as they travel down his back and disappearing on the shorter fur of his legs. I can't help but reach out and gently touch one of his baby paws, the pads still pink and soft with bare hints of sharps claws at the tips. At my touch his eyes open, brilliant amber rather than the usual dark blue of newborns.

"He's beautiful," I breathe, entranced as he flutters his eyelashes in the brightness of the sun. I don't even break off my gaze as I ask, "What's his name?"

"Mheetu," my mother purrs, bending down and licking him. The little cub squeaked happily at her, recognizing his mother. "Usually I would keep him away from the pride longer, but I couldn't wait to show him off to everyone," she purred out, nuzzling my brother over onto his back as he giggled and batted at her nose.

"He's going to be your future king."

Her words confuse me into silence. Then the puzzle pieces of my mind fall together. His amber eyes, Mheetu was Mufasa's son. My mother finally had a son that she could try to set on the throne of a kingdom.

For a second my thoughts slip away from the bundle of fur lying in front of my paws. What will my mother do with me now that she has a male heir to help her gain power in the pride? Without any male cubs she was content in making make sure I was queen to secure her place in the pride hierarchy. As mother to the king's mate she would have a good deal of influence in the run of the kingdom. However, it wouldn't be half so much as she would if she were mother to the king himself.

Mheetu…she was going to talk Mufasa into naming her son crown prince rather than Simba. He had the power to do that; even I knew that it wasn't necessarily the eldest son who was given the crown. My mother had lost none of her beauty in the time since we had left the Sun Desert Pride, I didn't doubt she could convince the king somehow.

If the king had still been Mufasa.

What my mother didn't know was that Simba and Mufasa are dead, and that Scar was the new king. I couldn't guess his mind as well as his golden brothers', but Scar didn't seem the type to take kindly to having an heir of Mufasas around—even an illegitimate one.

He might even kill my brother.

My brother.

My little brother.

My innocent little brother.

Who, like me, hadn't done anything more than live.

A feeling of protectiveness that I hadn't ever known flooded my limbs and strengthened my heart.

"Mother Mufasa is dead!" I shouted, desperate to get her attention and make her listen. The idea that my brother might be in danger frightened me more than worry that she would strike me with a paw.

"What?!" my mother growled, glaring down as though she thought I might be lying.

"It's true!" I stated, standing firmly before her. My little brother, unawares that he was the center of our conversation, scrabbled on the ground between us in newborn wonder. "Scar's the king now," I continued when my mother just looked at me, speechless. "Simba and Mufasa…" I choke back the tears and breath deep to loosen the tightening of my throat. I had to tell her. "They both died in a stampede a few days ago."

"You little lying…" my mother growled in fury, cutting off the rest of her words. So fast I couldn't even comprehend it a front paw had me pinned to the ground, claws catching and twisting an ear painfully. "Don't you know better than to pull a trick like that on me?" she hissed, hot breathe in my face.

"I'm not lying," I yelp fiercely, fear lacking in the desperation to make her realize how much things had changed in her absence. "Scar even let the hyenas into the Pride Lands, didn't you see them?"

"I thought…it can't…" she rambled, the pressure on my esophagus easing as she pulled back and stared at the horizon with mixed emotion. I panted to regain my breath as her babbling continued; sometimes in short quips of disbelief, other times mutterings about what she was to do now. Mheetu had wriggled closer, curious as to why I was laying on the ground with him.

"I'm ok," I whispered, even though I know he too young to understand. A happy squeak escaped from his mouth, and the little sound made me laugh.

"You!" my mother hissed suddenly, twisting around and glaring down. Out of habit I shrank back, eyes half closed in expectation of a blow. "You're of no use to me now, utterly no use!" Her voice was almost a scream, tempered with hot fury. Snarling she took the step forward and raised her paw high. "Useless piece of trash!"

A yelp that wasn't mine split the air, and my eyes opened in horror to see Mheetu careening into the air. My little brother smashed into the boulder I had perched on just minutes before, flopping around limply before he thudded to the ground. He cried piteously from the dusty ground, front paw wrenched at an impossible angle and red already seeping into his light colored pelt.

"All that time I spent trying to get a son," my mother hissed furiously, glaring at the crying bundle of fur. "Wasted!"

For some reason as I sat there, dumbstruck, I remembered Sarabi standing over me protectively as the hyenas circled round on Scars' coronation night. The comfort of her warm breathe when I awoke from nightmares of Simba dying and calling out for help. She had protected and comforted me. If she could do that for me, for no reason other than I was the friend of her son, why shouldn't I do the same for another related by blood?

"Useless piece of dung," my mother growled, advancing on my brother again.

There was no thought process involved; I merely reacted to her movement. My paws flew forward of their own accord, pulling my body forward in a sprint that led to a skidding halt before my whimpering baby brother.

"Mommy stop!" I pleaded, hoping the more endearing term of mommy rather than mother would strike harder in her ears.

"Move," she snarled, yanking painfully on my tail and dragging me out of the way. Expertly she pinned me down to the ground with a hind paw while turning her attention back to the bundle of fur slowly leaking dark blood onto the earth.

"No! He didn't do anything!" I cried, clawing desperately at the dirt and trying to pull myself forward. "Stop it!" However, no matter how much spirit and backbone I had gained recently I was still just a cub, struggling against the strength of a full-grown lioness.

"Insignificant trash…useless refuse…worthless debris…" my mother let off a string of what for her were obscenities. She had always believed that a tongue that loosed curses had less power when it came to the art of persuasion. With each nuance she yanked on my brothers' dislodged paw, making him cry out in pain as he was dragged across the rocky earth. With a desperate effort I wriggled out from under her paw, dashing forward between her and my little brother.

"Out of the way!" she growled, socking me in the jaw with a heavy paw that made me see stars. Woozy I sank to the ground, half on top of Mheetu in a last, semi-conscious effort to protect him.

"All this time, wasted!" my mother growled, looking down in disgust at the two of us. "After everything I did, you two are useless!" she roared in fury, swiping dirt in my face. Coughing and sputtering I rubbed the grit from my eyes, expecting a blow at any time. "Not even worth killing," I thought I heard her whisper, and by the time my vision was clear there was only silence—and the tip of my mothers' tail vanishing into the long grass.

For a moment I wondered how she would explain all this to the pride, what lie she would concoct to have them welcome her back.

Then I realized that I didn't care.

My mother didn't return that night—or ever again.

I spent the rest of the night curled up alongside my baby brother, unable to do anything but be beside him as his breathing became more labored and the mix of blood and dirt around him grew bigger. Just as the moon cleared the horizon he closed his amber eyes, drew a rattling breath, and ceased to move.

I didn't cry.

Instead I curled tighter around him, resting my head on his shoulders. "I'll be here when you wake up, then we can go and play," I promised. "Good night Mheetu." I drifted off to sleep, dreaming about him and I playing on the golden savannah. His toddling steps as he chased after me, and the sun reflecting off our pelts in gold rays that seemed dim compared to the brightness of our smiles.


	5. Destiny

_A/N- Due to popular demand I've added an additional chapter to this tale. Hopefully this feels like a more complete ending to everyone. Please enjoy and leave a review. Thanks!_

* * *

**Chapter 5: Destiny**

"Nala?" Habit forced my mind out of sleep at the sound of my name, my mother never had the patience to wait for me to wake fully before expecting her orders obeyed.

"Nala!" The second cry was more frantic, but in my half-awake state I recognized Sarabi; her tone more dignified and rich than my mothers fake lightness. Relieved, my flickering eyes closed fully once more, weighed down by some incredible force.

I felt so tired.

My mind had a storm of fog inside, slowing down the travel of my thoughts from one place to another. I wanted to call out to Sarabi, tell her where I was, but the effort to open my mouth and speak was beyond me.

_But something…something…to tell,_ my bogged mind struggled vainly to form a complete and coherent thought, but it was exceedingly slow going. Luckily Sarabi found me at that moment, and I gave up the effort of trying to speak.

"Oh my stars! Nala!" the queens' exclamation sounded faint in my ears, though I could tell from her sharp scent that she was close. "Miehka, come here and help me! Nala, sweetie, are you ok?" Sarabi whispered frantically, nosing me with her whiskered muzzle.

I tried to tell her that I was fine, just tired, but the queen seemed to be moving at impossible speeds. By the time I took in a breath to answer she had disappeared. Fighting to open my eyes I saw her return, an elderly brown lioness at her side.

"She won't respond Miehka, I don't know what's wrong!" Sarabi wailed, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

_If you'd slow down! _I thought in annoyance, trying to summon the energy to speak aloud. The older lioness, Miehka, prodded me gently with a paw. Involuntarily I whimpered when she touched my head, and when she gently peeled back an eyelid I couldn't focus, my vision blurry.

"I think she's just knocked silly," Miehka reassured Sarabi, cautiously picking me up by the scruff and resettling me a few inches away from my brother. Groggily I tried to watch as she went over him with the same care but my blue eyes refused to focus and the blurry images I took in weren't worth the effort of keeping my eyes open.

Besides, I knew exactly what my brother looked like. I had ingrained his profile into my mind that first moment I saw him. His pale yellow coat, speckled with the rosettes of light tan that made up his baby spots were clear in my mind—even with the mental fog. I remembered his amber eyes open wide with wonder in fascination of the whole world.

Only…that wasn't right.

Now red-black blood was caked into that soft fur; already dried and cracking in ugly patterns. His short limbs were tucked under him, but contorted at impossible angles. And those bright amber eyes were closed, though even if they had been open there would be nothing but darkness in their depths.

Only, that wasn't right either.

That wasn't him.

That bloodied pile of fur wasn't my brother.

My brother was sunshine solidified in fur, bright against the green of the savannah.

My brother was wobbling limbs the wriggled like leaf shadows in the breeze.

My brother was fire-bright eyes, awed by both a single grass blade and the expansive sky.

My brother was Mheetu.

Not some pile of fur and blood.

And my brother wasn't here anymore.

Dimly I was aware of Sarabi and Miehka conversing above me, but I was too tired to try and follow their words; merely letting them fall on my ears and then fade away without processing them.

"Nala's going to be fine, most of the blood on her is from this poor little babe here."

"It's Sarafina's new cub, he has to be."

"But then where is she?! What happened here?"

"I don't know."

"Surely even the hyenas can't be this vicious!"

"I don't think it was those scavengers Miehka."

"But then who could have done this?"

……

"Who Sarabi?!"

"We don't have time to worry about that now. Nala needs to see Rafiki…and we need to bury this little cub."

"But…yes my lady."

Then I was swinging softly in Sarabi's familiar jaws, her grip on scruff gentle yet secure.

"Don't worry honey, I've got you," she whispered through closed jaws. "You're safe now."

* * *

I spent almost a week under Rafikis' care, waiting for the crack in my skull to heal so I could think clearly once more. As soon as I was recovered I made Sarabi take me to where they had buried my brother.

Pride land custom stated that any dead member of the pride was to be laid to rest in the grove of stars. There an overnight vigil was held as they ascended into the night sky. Only the kings and queens became the stars that lit the night, but the rest of us were also welcomed to walk in that black blanket after our time under the sun was finished. At the end of the vigil the body was left to the other creatures of the savannah, taking its part once more in the circle of life.

I had missed the official vigil for my brother, and Sarabi refused to let me sit up all night for my own, saying I wasn't fully recovered yet. However she did let me stay in the grove as twilight fell and the first stars graced the purple-black blanket of the night sky. Laying in the soft grass, staring up at the familiar constellations I wondered, not for the first time, if the kings from my home pride were up there as well—especially the father I couldn't remember. I wasn't sure if I wanted my baby brother walking the same skies as he did.

"Are you ready?" Sarabi asked after a time, a soft gray shadow in the night. I nodded yes and rolled to my feet to follow after her.

That night set the pattern for the rest of my cubhood.

I grew into an adult, following in Sarabis' paw prints. She taught me how to hunt, the subtle art of stalking prey to get within a single stride before they noticed you were present. Under her tutelage I quickly became an expert at sneaking up and surprising prey with a sudden spring. The hunting party welcomed me eagerly when I came of age; a drought was slowly turning the lush grasslands into a dry and golden place that wasn't welcoming to the wandering herbivores—any extra set of paws was welcome as prey became scarcer.

Without my success at hunting I'm not sure that I ever would have found my place in the pride. Even without my mother physically present to supervise my every move, I would still find myself wondering if she would punish me for some action or other. I had been so long under her control that it was difficult to make a decision that went against her wishes. Sometimes strange responses would come out of my mouth, completely contrary to what I thought, but perfectly in line as to what my mother would have expected me to say.

Hunting skills were something my mother had barely touched yet.

I had been too young to really begin those lessons when she left. And though she had taught me basic form, and gone over the general structure of the hunt, it wasn't enough to leave a lasting imprint on me.

It took several seasons but I eventually grew into my own; becoming a true lioness, rather than my mothers slave puppet. Sarabi and the other lionesses all supported me along the way, and I found that I had inherited something good from my mothers' treatment—the power of observation.

Her constant pressure on me to keep up appearances and our act of loving mother and daughter had imparted on me a hypersensitivity of others thoughts and perceptions. As I grew up a little I found that I could read the mood of the group better even than Sarabi, and immediately deduce the base issue. It was a skill I'd learned subconsciously in childhood; inferring my mothers mood and debating the appropriate response.

This ability gave me a place in the pride that I felt was mine alone. It thrilled me to halt a fight before it even began, or boost the flagging confidence of a huntress before anyone else knew a single thing was wrong. With Sarabis' help over the years I learned a certain type of subtle manipulation to handle these issues, the tricks of a queen to maintain peace in her kingdom.

And I was happy.

Then one day I entered Scar's cavern. Ever since the red lion had ascended the throne a great drought had parched every last bit of moisture from the land. With less green pastures to feed on many of the prey animals drifted away, the few that remained were quickly reduced as both us and the hyenas hunted to fill our bellies. Anger had finally gotten the best of me, and without consulting Sarafina or my other companions I entered the kings chambers.

His eyes gleamed in a way that made me uncomfortable when I entered, but I was irritated by the days' useless trek through the wasteland our home had become and ignored his gaze. Frustrated, I unleashed a torrent of complaints; about the dying land and how we were over hunting the herds.

Then I noticed that he wasn't listening.

He was staring at me, those glittering green eyes hungry.

And he was singing to himself…

Singing about…

Cubs!

For a frozen moment I couldn't move, couldn't breath, couldn't even blink. Then the red king took one step closer and the trance broke. I lashed out at him, my unsheathed paw striking him full in the face.

"Never Scar! Never!"

I bounded out into the night, anger boiling hotter in my veins than it had when I entered the cave. One foolish hyena refused to step out of the way, and fell with a crash to the dusty ground. I didn't even try to leap over the fallen figure, the satisfying grunt as my hind legs pounded on its rib cage made me feel better.

That night I left the Pride Lands.

I didn't want to, honestly, but Sarabi and the others insisted upon it.

"You are the next queen. We need you to lead us when the days grow darker," they repeated over and over again.

"How can they get darker than this!" I shouted back. The moon was absent that night, dust borne on the restless wind clotting out the dimmer star light. Though I wasn't just talking about the physical dark they looked at me with slight contempt.

"It can still get worse. We will need you then." It was Sarabis' nod of agreement that settled the matter for me. I hadn't realized it, but my growth into the pride had achieved exactly what my mother had groomed me for—to become its princess and eventually its queen. Even without her endless meddling I had grown into the role.

I had done it on my own.

Flushing from their praise I bowed to the wisdom of the other lioness—after all, I was still young.

It's funny though, me who was born into a family that didn't want me, now had a family that wanted me so much they were willing to send me away. I thought the ability to let tears flow had been beaten out of me a cub, but I found out that night it wasn't true. Their warm wetness trickled down my cheeks and collected on my whiskers as I sprinted across the border under the cover of night. Safely out in the desert I turned back to face my home and roared, the sound ragged and hoarse from my run and suppressed crying.

But I knew Sarabi would hear it.

Just like I knew she was listening for it in the first place.

Because she cared about me.

Even after all these years the concept that someone would actually care for me was still alien, and I shuddered at the thought that I was leaving her alone in that dead land.

"I will come back, I won't abandon you like my mother did to me," I promised, raising my eyes to the night sky to make sure the kings bore witness to my pledge. I needed their guidance as much as I needed to convince myself that I wasn't merely running away. "I swear I will come back."

* * *

_A/N- That's it folks! After all, you know what happens next. Thaks again for reading so far and all the great reviews. I'm quite excited for more!_


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